Going Under

I said nothing. I was seething with anger that Lucy was defending Ryan.

“Maybe you don’t care, but he got slapped with a misdemeanor. Community service. Probation. I didn’t want him to get anything, but I wasn’t allowed to dictate the terms.”

“A misdemeanor? He watched you get raped!”

“Actually, no he didn’t. They beat him unconscious. He only saw what happened in the beginning and at the end. The boys could have very well succeeded in challenging his story, but they were already in hot water with you and those other girls. They knew to concede and tell the truth.”

I shook my head.

“Why are you shaking your head, Brooke? You don’t believe me?” Lucy asked.

“I don’t know.”

“He shouldn’t have been charged with anything,” Lucy went on.

I was quick to jump on that. “He didn’t report it. So yes, he should have been charged with something.”

Lucy bristled. “He made a mistake, Brooke. He was young and scared.”

“Yes, Lucy. You’ve already said that.” I felt impatient and agitated. And then I had a thought. “If he was so innocent, why did his picture appear on the news? Wouldn’t the police have protected his identity or something?”

“He was still charged with failure to report a crime. They couldn’t let him off altogether. And Brooke, you know how the media is. Someone got word that he came forward, and that was that. It didn’t matter what his story was. They just jumped on the opportunity to reveal another rapist, even though he wasn’t one,” Lucy replied. “Journalists get it wrong all the time. I could run down a list of screw-ups for you if you’d like to hear them.”

I shook my head thinking back to Ryan’s picture on the news. It was the only one that wasn’t a mug shot. Someone had gotten a picture of him from somewhere, but it wasn’t from the police.

“Well, then I guess his life’ll be ruined because of bad journalism,” I said. I didn’t know if I was pleased with that or heartbroken.

“Don’t be flippant, Brooke,” Lucy said quietly.

I looked at her oddly. “Why are you so forgiving?”

Lucy smiled. “Because I am. And I wish you’d forgive him, too. He loves you, Brooke.”

“Do not go there,” I warned.

Lucy nodded.

That evening I watched a large moving truck pass my house but thought nothing of it.

***

“I was a terrible friend, Ms. Janie.” I hugged Beth’s pillow close to my chest. Beth’s mother and I were sitting in Beth’s old bedroom looking through boxes of pictures and other keepsakes.

Ms. Janie sighed. “Baby, you made a mistake. You think there’s any one person in this world who hasn’t made a big mistake in their lives?”

“I just wish my mistake would have only hurt me and not someone I loved,” I said.

“Well, it seldom happens that way for anyone, Brooke.”

We sat in silence for a moment.

“Beth would have been very proud of how brave you were,” Ms. Janie said.

I snorted. “The police arrested those boys right after my hospital visit. I was so angry because I wasn’t sure I wanted to go through with testifying. That’s not brave. That’s weak.”

“That’s not weak. That’s human,” Ms. Janie said. “And you did, anyway. You did it, Brooke. And look at what you did for those other girls. You made them brave, too.”

I shook my head. “I should have told you. The minute Beth told me about her rape, I should have made her tell you.” A tear plopped on a vacation family picture I was holding, and I apologized.

“Brooke, I don’t blame you in any way. I hope you know that.” She wrapped her arm around me and held me close.

“I miss her,” I whispered.

“I know. I do too. So much”

A thought occurred to me. “Ms. Janie?”

“Hmm?”

“Why did you bury Beth with that half-heart necklace? You knew all about Finn and me. Weren’t you angry with me?”

Ms. Janie kissed the top of my head. “Brooke, you were my daughter’s best friend.”

I swallowed hard. “But she hated me.”

“You think there’s no forgiveness in death?” Ms. Janie said. “I choose to believe that Beth would be very upset had she not gone to heaven with that necklace.”

I smiled wearily. “I gave my half to a friend. Another victim. She wished she could have known Beth.”

Ms. Janie squeezed me. “I think you did a good thing.”

I spent the afternoon helping Ms. Janie sort through Beth’s belongings. The room had remained untouched until now because it was too hard for Beth’s parents to enter it. Now Ms. Janie was ready to let go of the past, and we started by making piles of clothes and accessories we planned to donate to Goodwill. I made a pile for myself of a few clothing pieces. I never planned to wear them though Beth and I were the same size. I just wanted to keep them in my closet to remember her by.

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